In Which
by NayDeenyRadd
Summary: In which Greg's ex wife reveals that she is dying, and she asks for one last favor.


It was a great day, but isn't that how it always starts?  
Both Greg and Mycroft had the day off and after the two had indulged in a much needed lie-in, Greg was in the kitchen making the French toast that had given him a name throughout all his department at was in the shower, and although it was already past noon neither of them had received a text or a phone call, so no murders or national emergencies so far. Just as the thought passed through Greg's mind, his phone vibrated on the counter.

"Damn it."

Seeing it was a call from an unknown number, he took the pan off the stove before answering.

"Lestrade here."

His heart dropped when he heard a painfully familiar voice answer back.

"Hi Greg."

Mycroft wasn't one to indulge much, certainly he had expensive taste, but the bespoke suits, expensive wines and vintage autos were all things to which he was accustomed, thanks to his privileged upbringing and his minor government position. Needless to say when the rare occasion occurred that both he and Gregory had the day off- and no, he _was not_ responsible for it this time- he indulged. A full nights sleep after _several_ hours of lovemaking, they enjoyed a few lazy hours in bed before a hot shower and if the smells wafting through the flat were any indication, a delicious he could convince Gregory to dine out on the terrace.

Indeed, it was shaping up to be the perfect day. So it was with a smile and perhaps a bit of a hum that Mycroft made his way to his kitchen, the smells of cinnamon, citrus and bacon had filled his flat and made it feel homey, domestic. Surprisingly Mycroft didn't mind, even if no one else would believe it, he knew Gregory was able to turn "The Iceman's" flat into a home. He began to fix himself a cup of tea, tutting over the fact that his lover insisted on drinking the most vile brew of coffee in the morning. He felt more than heard Gregory's return to the kitchen, and turned around, immediately resisting the impulse to deduce, instead he quietly took a sip of his tea before speaking.

"What's wrong?"

"Hi Greg."

Thanks to the harshness of his job Greg wasn't rendered speechless often, actually he could count on his hand how many times he's been at a loss for words in the past year, and most of them were due to Mycroft; but hearing his ex wife's voice on the phone, almost 2 years after the divorce, left him at a complete loss.

"Greg? Are you still there?"

"Oh, Uh, yeah, I'm here. How, how are you Sid?"

"Not to good I'm afraid. Greg, I'm just gonna come straight to the point. I know I have no right to ask this of you, I just, I wanted to see you, to apologize, for everything. In person. I know you're with the government guy-"

"Mycroft."

"Yeah, him. But, I need to do this. "

Greg knew that sigh, it would happen whenever Sidney had something more to say.

Turning off the burner he made his way into the living room. "Sidney, what's wrong?"

It was like he could hear the tears when she answered.

"Greg, I have cancer."

Hard as he might, Mycroft couldn't ignore his husbands red eyes or tear stained cheeks.

"Gregory? What ever is the matter?"

Placing the phone on the counter Greg slumped onto a stool.

"It was Sidney. She, she has cancer."

"Oh my."

As his eyes shifted towards his spouse, Greg frowned. "Mycroft, don't be like that."

"Like what my dear?"

"That tone, that thing you do."

Gesturing towards the coffee pot the pair stayed silent as Mycroft poured a cup.  
As Mycroft placed the mug down Greg grasped the younger mans wrist and gently pulled him to stand between his legs. Looping his arms around Mycroft's waist, Greg pressed his face against his impeccably tailored waistcoat, the material rough against his face yet soft at the same time, just like Mycroft.

The couple stood in silence before Greg let out a deep sigh,  
"She wants to know if I can visit. She says there are some things she needs to tell me, in person, and some things she needs to apologize for."

Greg let out a whine of comfort as Mycroft's fingers began threading through his hair and massaging his scalp.

"And how do you feel about that?"

Pulling back the DI looked up at his husband, "The question is how do YOU feel about it? You'd be coming with me."

"Gregory, I hardly think-"

"Sidney specifically asked for you to come."  
If he hadn't been intently watching his partners face Greg would've missed the mixture of shock and surprise on Mycroft's face.

"Did she really now?"

"Mhmm."

Greg nodded slowly before bringing his arms to the front of Mycroft's waistcoat and began to toy with the buttons, a habit the young man found to be absolutely charming. "She said she would understand if you didn't come, but you will, won't you?"  
Warm, hopeful brown eyes gazed up at him. "I wouldn't want to go without you."

Mycroft mentally sighed, no he didn't want to go visit his husbands ex wife so she could ease her conscious.

She deserved the guilt, she had hurt Gregory, his Gregory, and forgiveness would not come easy, if at all. However he did not want to seem a spiteful, jealous spouse, he knew his Gregory was faithful, it was that woman he had concerns about.  
She could easily take advantage of his darling's kindness and forgiveness, but he would not allow it. He looked down at his husband whose beautiful face was now downcast as his hands gripped the flannel of his worn out pajama pants and sighed.  
Was there nothing he wouldn't do for this man? He was clearly mad, taken complete leave of his senses the moment he said "I do." and there was no hope for him, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

Taking his partners hands, Mycroft brushed his lips against the rough knuckles. "When do we leave?"


End file.
